


3AM Heartache

by wintershelter



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, len is bad at feelings, lisa is there to help, non graphic treatment of gunshot wound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-01 11:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8622202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintershelter/pseuds/wintershelter
Summary: Mick gets hurt on a job gone south. Lisa deals with the fallout.





	

Len had learned that early on that controlling his emotions was the only way he would survive. Lisa was the only one who had ever seen the full range of Len's feelings. She had too. They had to be good at reading each other because more often than not, being able to read the look on another's face had been survival during their childhood. The older they had gotten, the colder Len had become and he'd become a bit harder to read. Len didn't do it as a way to shut her out. It was more of a way to protect himself. She hadn't seen Len cry in years.

That long streak was close to being broken in the twilight hours of the morning. Lisa was roused, blurry eyed as Len charged into her apartment, blood on his jacket. She felt as if she was doused with ice water, thinking Len was hurt. She ran towards him and pushed his jacket aside, but there was no wound. Len grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the door, babbling about a job gone wrong and for her to move her ass because he needed help. She was too shocked to do anything but let him pull her along.

Lisa was pulled towards a silver car on the street corner. Len was fumbling, honestly fumbling, with the door handle and she could see why by the sight in the backseat. Mick Rory was slumped in the backseat, blood leaking from a bullet wound in his left shoulder.

Lisa thought he was dead for half a moment because Len's tone was border-line hysterical and he was babbling nonsense to Mick like, “stay with me,” “my god Mick,” you'll be okay.”

Lisa snaked her arm under Mick's armpit just as Len hoisted Mick's injured arm over his shoulder. He murmured a quick 'sorry' as the older man groaned in pain at the action. Somehow, Len and her managed to lift him out of the car. It took the both of the Snart siblings’ strength (and a hefty dose of adrenaline on Len's part) to maneuver Mick to Lisa's small couch.

“First aid kit.” Len mumbled, more to himself than to Lisa. His eyes were dazed as he turned to go raid her bathroom for supplies.

“Wait, Lenny!” Lisa reached out and grabbed her big brother's shoulders. “Sit down, I'll go get it.”

As a testament to how distraught Len was, he uncharacteristically conceded with a nod. She watched Len turn his eyes back to Mick's prone form and tried not to panic at his peculiar behavior.

Lisa rushed to her bathroom, not wanting to leave Mick or Len alone for long. She quickly grabbed the first aid kit and antiseptic from the cabinet under the sink.

Lisa re-entered the living room to find Len sitting on the edge of the couch, holding pressure to Mick's still bleeding wound. The couch was already too small for Mick, but Len had still managed to perch himself on the edge of it.

Lisa set the supplies down on the coffee table. Len reached over with one hand for the bag, but Lisa clamped a hand around his wrist in a firm grip. She felt Mick's blood on Len's skin. It was thick beneath her fingers. She meet Len's icy blue eyes with determination.

“No. I said, I got this.” Lisa reiterated.

“But, I-” Len began, but Lisa was already shaking her head.

“Len, even if I let you, you couldn't even a hold the needle straight, your hands are shaking.” She brought her free hand up to cup the side of Len's face, a gesture he had so often done when she was scared and upset. “Let me do this, I know how to. You taught me, remember?”

Len pursued his lips tight and nodded his consent. She gave his wrist a light squeeze before withdrawing her hands. Len stood up from the couch to let Lisa set up her materials. Lisa saw him wring his hands together. It was an unfamiliar movement, but Len had been anything but familiar tonight.

Lisa made quick work of cutting off Mick's ruined shirt before carefully pulling the bullet out. Mick stayed unconscious during that procedure, thank fuck. With a steady hand she found the bullet, extracting it with the tweezers. With the hardest part over, she internally breathed out a sigh off relief. Lisa expertly disinfected and stitched the wound as an anxious Len watched on. Soon enough, Lisa was tying the last stitch, reaching for the gauze and tape to cover the wound. After doing so, she placed two fingers to Mick's neck. She was pleased to feel his pulse beating sluggishly beneath her probing fingers.

Mick was going to be okay. He hadn't lost too much blood but they would have to keep an eye on him to make sure it stayed that way.

Lisa rested her forearms on her knees, satisfied that one disaster had been averted. She looked up at the other disaster that was brewing. Len had been glued to Mick's side during the whole procedure, resting his hand on Mick's leg. Len seemed to be searching Mick's face for any sign of discomfort, but his eyes still had that glassy look to them like he wasn't totally with it.

Though her hands were still bloody, Lisa touched Len's wrist, gentler this time. He turned his head to meet her gaze but his body was still angled towards Mick.

“C'mon, let's get you cleaned up.” Lisa coaxed. Len had so often taken care of her, hell, he'd practically raised her, but the devotion of the Snart siblings went both ways. Len had always been there for Lisa and now Lisa was getting her turn to do the same for him.

Lisa guided Len out of the living room and towards the bathroom sink. On reflex, he grabbed the soap and began washing Mick's blood from his hands. Once the water ran clear, Lisa told him to go and wait for her in the kitchen.

She really wanted to get Len into some clean clothes, the ones he had on were stained with the reminder of Mick, but Len needed a drink more than he needed a shower right now. Len was upset in a way she had never seen before and it scared her more than she'd want to admit. Len and her needed to talk.

As she finished washing up, she heard Len make a quick detour to the living room. It was only after she turned the water off and toweled her hands dry that Len's footsteps retreated into the kitchen.

She followed after him and went to her cupboard. She grabbed a glass and the bottle of scotch she kept for company. Lisa herself didn't drink much. The smell reminded her too much of Lewis for her to ever truly enjoy it, but there were times when it was necessary.

She sat down at the table and gestured for Len to sit as well. He did, staring vacantly as she poured the alcohol into two clear glass tumblers. She handed his drink to him in silence. He pondered the glass a moment before taking a long swig.

She stayed quiet, taking a sip of her drink as well. She was hoping Len would be the first to say something, but her normally so talkative brother looked content to just stare at the bottom of his glass in silence.

“Lenny, what happened?” Lisa asked, studying his face.

He was looking down, still not meeting her eyes. She saw him swallow and his throat worked furiously for a moment. His hand inched towards the table and if Lisa didn't know better she would say it was a controlled gesture, but his fingers were twitching like they ached to grab something and Lisa knew he was just holding himself back from clutching the edge of the table.

“Len?” Lisa tried again, needing to get through to her brother. He ignored her in favor of reaching across the expanse to grab the scotch. She let him re-fill his empty glass before moving the bottle out of his reach.

Len swallowed his second glass in one go.

“Hey, talk to me, big brother.” Lisa urged.

When Len finally lifted his eyes upwards, Lisa was almost taken aback by the emotion in them. They held a look of pure despair and Lisa felt a piece of her heart at his expression.

“Oh, Lenny.” Lisa whispered, leaning forward in her chair to press a long kiss to his cheek. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Len embraced Lisa back and Lisa felt as his body began to shake against hers. Len let out a choked noise and with a jolt Lisa realized that her brother was crying or very close to it.

“Shhh...” Lisa soothed, running her hands up and down Len's back. “It's gonna be okay. Mick's gonna be fine.” She felt him clutch back a little more as he buried his face in her hair.

It took a while but Len finally stopped his shaking and seemed to gain some of his control back. Len gave Lisa a squeeze and pulled away, putting some space between them.

“Sorry,” he mumbled out and his voice sounded wrecked. His face was dry, but his voice sounded wet like he was choking back tears.

Len's eyes were trained on his lap and Lisa feels a little hurt. After everything they've been through, Len shouldn't feel ashamed for this. He should know Lisa would never fault him for this display of emotion. She gently grabbed his chin and tilted it upwards. Lisa met Len's red rimmed eyes and gave him a warm smile.

“It's okay to feel things, Lenny.”

Len huffed out a sardonic laugh. “Yeah, I definitely want to experience this again.”

“Don't be an ass.” Lisa chastised. “You care and that's a good thing.”

“Yeah, fat lot of good that’s done. I couldn’t even think straight. Dammit Lise, I couldn’t do anything.”

“Tonight was a mess, Len. Hell, even I was panicking." Lisa said.

Len ran a hand over his head and sucked in a breath. “He shouldn’t even be hurt. He took that fucking bullet for me. It was for me.” Len said, his voice cracking on the last word.

Lisa pursed her lips together at the new information. She weighed Len’s expression and everything she had seen of Len and Mick when they were together. It was obvious how these boys felt about each other, but she didn’t want to lay it on too thick right now. She didn’t think her brother could handle it at the moment.

“He cares for you just as much as you do and that scares you.” Lisa said evenly.

Len didn't refute her words. He blinked a few times before looking away, fixating on a stain on the table and Lisa knew he was done talking. She couldn't blame him though. Touchy-Feely had never been Len's thing and this night had already been emotional enough without bringing this into the mix.

Lisa put her hand on Len's. “All right, here’s what we’re gonna do. I am gonna scrounge up some clothes for you while you take a shower. Next, you're gonna get at least four hours of sleep. Don’t argue with me.” She ordered, raising her hand as Len opened his mouth to do just that. “I will wake you if anything happens, but you don't look much better than Mick at this point.”

"Fine." Len said, though he really looked like he wanted to argue the point further.

Lisa smiled and lightly patted the back of his hand, “Good man. Now, go shower. You reek.”

Len got up and went off to do just that. Lisa sat at the table for another minute before going to her bedroom to fin Len some clothes. She managed to find an old shirt of his and a pair of sweats. She placed the clothes and a clean towel on the sink for Len to use.

She walked back into the living room to go check on Mick again. He was still breathing and his pulse was up a few beats, though his face was still pale. Lisa reminded herself that he had lost a bit of blood, but it was not enough to be life threatening. He would be groggy for days and would be unfit to leave her house of his own volition for a while, and if her brother’s nervous hovering was any indication, Len wasn’t even going to think about letting Mick out of his sight for at least a week or two.

“You boys…” she muttered as she watched Mick’s sleeping form. She picked up a wash cloth and wiped a bit of errant sweat off his forehead. She turned her attention back toward her coffee table to clean up the mess from earlier. She tossed the bloody tissues away and gathered all of the medical equipment back in the kit.

She had just finished putting away the now sterilized stitching needle, when she heard Len enter the room. She glanced up and was relatively pleased with the image she saw. Len looked better. He appeared calmer, though he was eying Mick uneasily. She doubted that worry would completely vanish until Mick woke up for more than a few seconds at a time.

“He’s on the mend.” Lisa soothed. She straightened up from her crouch and walked over to Len. She slung an arm over his shoulders and shepherded him to the bedroom.

Lisa gestured to her bed. "Get in." Len rolled his eyes at her but got in with no fuss. After a few seconds of shifting, he laid his head on the pillows and settled down underneath the covers.

“Satisfied?” Len asked, a slight drawl to his words.

“Ecstatic.” Lisa deadpanned back. “Now, get some sleep, trainwreck.”

Len smirked. “You’re still the trainwreck, sis.”

Lisa gave him a sarcastic smile at the familiar camaraderie and on that note, she turned and flicked off the light. Before she could make it more than two steps out the door, she heard Len call out for her.

“Lise?”

She stopped and turned her head back over her shoulder.

“Yeah, Lenny?” She asked.

“Thanks.” Len said, voice soft with a sincerity that made something warm blossom in her chest.

“I’ll come get you in a few hours. Sleep tight.” Lisa said, fondly.

She exited the bedroom and gently snicked the door shut behind her. She took a brief moment to gather her wits. So much had happened this evening, from Mick getting shot, to Len’s minor freak out, to the very real possibility that her brother finally realized that Mick loved him and that he loved Mick back.

She let go of the door knob and walked into the living room. She grabbed a stray magazine and plopped down in her favorite armchair, as she began her vigil over the man who had taken a bullet for her brother. Over the man she considered a brother.

“You know how to pick ‘em, Lenny.” Lisa murmured to no one. She adjusted her shoulders and she settled back into the chair.

She stole a glance at Mick, taking comfort in the obvious rise and fall of his chest. She flicked open the magazine and in the silence of the night, she kept guard over her boys.


End file.
